


Breaking News

by yuelle



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Engagement, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Malta (The Old Guard), Modern Royalty, News Media, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prince Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Prince Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Royal Engagement
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26209498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuelle/pseuds/yuelle
Summary: Two Princes. A royal engagement. This isBreaking News.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 65
Kudos: 310





	1. Breaking News for June 24, 2019

# BREAKING NEWS!

## Hot Genovese Prince off the market!

_24 June 2019_

Just heard from the Genovese royal grapevine that Prince Nicolo of Genova is engaged! We don’t know to who yet, but whoever he is, he’s one lucky bloke! Gentlemen, we’re sorry to say that this royal hottie is officially off the market. But don’t despair! Check out our list down below of the 10 most eligible royal hotties on the market right now! They may not be Queer, but when did that stop us from checking out what’s good? 😉

* * *

# TOP 10 ELIGIBLE ROYAL HOTTIES

## From Prince Yusuf of Marrakesh to Duke Steven of Northumberland, these are the Top 10 Eligible royals to check out right now!

 **1.** **Prince Yusuf of Marrakesh:**

[Hot damn.](https://i.imgur.com/sy09GpI.png) Or should we say Yusuf, Prince of [HOT](https://i.imgur.com/RiRlinF.png) [HOT](https://i.imgur.com/uAxQzau.jpg) [HOT](https://i.imgur.com/ts4wVCZ.jpg). Prince Yusuf hails from the lush and beautiful country of Marrakesh (that’s in Northwest Africa, for those of you who don’t know your geography). Born _Yusuf ibn Ibrahim ibn Muhammad ibn al-Kaysani_ , he is the eldest son of Queen Sayyida and King Ibrahim, the latter who sadly passed away in 2009, and is heir apparent to the Marrakeshian throne.But don’t let Prince Yusuf’s hot looks and hot bod fool you, this royal Prince packs a big brain and a big heart. He studied at Cambridge University in Cambridge, England, earning his Bachelors _and_ Masters Degrees in Art History & Ancient Poetry Studies (CAN WE JUST SAY WOW DOUBLE MAJOR SAVAGERY), before attending Paris Sciences et Lettres – PSL Research University in Paris, France for his phD studies. In 2017, Prince Yusuf was awarded the World Citizenship Award for his work with underprivileged children in North Africa, the youngest recipient of the award. In 2018, Prince Yusuf joined The Old Guard, an international group of historians and preservers of ancient and classical artifacts. 

**But is he Queer?** We’re not sure about this one. Prince Yusuf is notoriously private with his relationships. No one has been able to catch even a whiff of his private life. So Gentlemen, fingers crossed he’s one of us!

* * *

# Joint Statement by the Royal Household of Genova & the Royal Household of Marrakesh

_24 June 2019_

It is with great pleasure that we jointly announce the royal engagement of His Royal Highness Nicolò di Genova and Crown Prince Yusuf min Marrakesh. Prince Nicolò and Prince Yusuf will hold their wedding in due course. More details to follow.

His Royal Highness Prince Nicolò and Crown Prince Yusuf wish to thank the peoples of Genova and Marrakesh for their continued support and wish good blessings to you all.

_-_

_Dominus Vobiscum_

_Allah Maeak_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I _promise_ there's fic to read, I just had to get these news media articles out of the way first! Chapter One coming in a few days!
> 
> This fic is based on my Joe/Nicky modern royal!au concept which can be found [here](https://twitter.com/messsolitude/status/1297731321410621440?s=20). Thank you to everyone on Twitter and Tumblr for the support! You've all been very kind and generous!


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks goes to karanoidandroid ([twitter](https://twitter.com/karanoidandroid)/[tumblr](https://karanoidandroid.tumblr.com)) for the beautiful illustration for this chapter! ❤️ The piece in question is embedded in the chapter itself. Check out her other Joe/Nicky fanarts if you haven't already. She's brilliant!
> 
> **And now for some notes on this AU to get out of the way:**
> 
> \- Both Genova and Marrakesh are sovereign states.  
> \- Genovians speak a mixture of Ligurian and Italian.  
> \- Marrakesh is the more liberal state in Northern Africa.  
> \- Both the Catholic Church and Islam recognize same-sex marriage on a very limited case by case basis. Nicolò and Yusuf's marriage is one of those cases.  
> \- Both Genova and Marrakesh practice hereditary monarchy (Nicolò and Yusuf) and elective monarchy (case by case basis).  
> \- I'm calling this universe Earth-299999 (I'm a Marvel fan, as you can tell).  
> \- Everything is Happy and Nothing Hurts. ✨
> 
> Feel free to message me on [Tumblr](https://plrks.tumblr.com/ask) if there's anything you would like to discuss in private.
> 
> I also wanted to mention that the rating has gone up to Teen for the English and Italian curse words and Yusuf's horniness. The rating will eventually go up higher to Mature or Explicit.
> 
> **Post script note:** I obviously don't know how drafts work on here because I accidentally posted the draft version and some of you might have read that version and I apologize! This is the correct version! I think there was a comment left as well, so if that was you, feel free to re-comment on this version, if you wish!

Yusuf felt a hot thrill in his gut as he walked the bright and pristine tiled floors of the Scythia Palace Hotel. He was going to meet with Nicolò. Alone. _Finally_. The whole ordeal surrounding their engagement read like a really bad (or really good, depending on who you asked) Harlequin novel. Not to say Yusuf ever read those novels. That was his sister’s thing. Okay, he might have recently borrowed a few books to read late at night under the covers, but it was all in the name of research. Research that didn’t hold a candle to what Yusuf had had to go through recently in “fulfilling your royal duties as Crown Prince— _do not roll your eyes at me, Yusuf ibn Ibrahim ibn Muhammad ibn al-Kaysani!_ ”

“Oh, you’re fucked,” his sister had whistled under her breath when their mama recited Yusuf’s full family name.

“Amira, tongue!” Their mama had snapped, effectively snapping Amira’s mouth shut. Yusuf had smirked at Amira, earning him a kick in the shins in retaliation, which led to him pinching her side, which earned both of them their mama’s wrath at full force. Yes, it could get worse. It _did_ get worse. Yusuf kneaded his lower back, the phantom ache still rearing its ugly head even now, weeks later. He’d had to scrub the floors on the first floor. On his hands and knees. He hadn’t had his mama’s harshest punishment in years, not since after his father's death and Yusuf’s subsequent rebellious phase of cursing left and right in Arabic, French and English. He learned very quickly to keep his dirty mouth shut around his mother. Amira, on the other hand, hadn’t yet learned to do the same.

Amira’s punishment had been the same as Yusuf’s, albeit on the second floor. Yusuf was still positive, even now, that she had had help from the servants; there was no way she had finished at the same time Yusuf had. It was still worthwhile to see her exhausted face as they met up in the hallway leading to their mama’s office. “Payback’s a bitch,” he’d whispered to her, smirking. “Yes, it is,” Amira had replied, giving him her fakest sweet smile as she had poured the remaining soda she had been drinking onto his recently cleaned to _perfection_ floor.

Look, Yusuf loved his sister. He also wanted to strangle her _all the time_. Having a really annoying younger sister was _really annoying_. But he wouldn’t give her up for anything in the world.

Yusuf looked towards his shadow at his 3’clock, waiting for confirmation to head on through the double doors that led to the valet waiting area, where he and Nicolò had agreed to meet, just in case they needed to make a run for it. His shadow had thought that a brilliant idea and had told Yusuf to tell Nicolò that he was a brilliant young man for thinking of it. Yusuf had told his shadow to stop kissing the wrong Prince’s ass. His shadow, in retaliation, didn’t allow him to drive _his own car_ to the hotel. “For your safety, _My Prince_.” His shadow had very wisely ignored Yusuf’s vulgar finger expression.

His shadow tapped the inside of his wrist once, their silent signal of ‘follow me’. He stepped forward and pushed open one of the glass doors, stepping through first and giving the valet area a sweep before nodding at Yusuf. Yusuf walked through into the valet area, his shadow following behind and stepping to the side, blending into the background. Well, blending as much as a 6’2 French bodyguard could. Which wasn’t much. His shadow tended to stick out like a sore thumb. But that was his charm and Yusuf loved him for that. Not to mention Booker had his back since Yusuf was 19, grieving for a lost father, alone and scared in another country far from home. There was no going back with him. Yusuf trusted him with his life.

Yusuf spotted Nicolò immediately, his gaze drawn to him like a magnet. He was sitting on a plush looking chair, fiddling with his sunglasses. He looked...good. He looked really, _really_ good with his dark blue blazer and black shirt that hugged his chest and torso _just right_. He was wearing blue jeans and if Yusuf was correct, they would be hugging his legs and ass _just right_ as well. But Nicolò also looked nervous, glancing at the family who were standing to the side of their car, whispering and sneaking glances at Nicolò and seemingly unwilling to get into their car for the time being. Yusuf glanced around and noticed a few guests looking Nicolò’s way. They looked as if they knew they should know Nicolò from somewhere, but couldn’t place him. All of them except for the family looked away as they continued on with their lives.

Yusuf leaned against the cool marble tiles and watched Nicolò carefully. No one had noticed or recognized him yet, which was good, as it gave him the opportunity to study Nicolò a little longer and ponder further on their recent conversation.

Nicolò had been the one to privately reach out to him first, asking him to meet him at the hotel. “I know you are in Malta right now,” he had said over the phone two days ago. 

“And I know you’re in Malta too, Nicolò,” Yusuf had replied. Nicolò’s squeaky “Oh?”, which he had covered up with a very fake cough, had made Yusuf smile.

It wasn’t a secret to the world that they were both visiting Malta at the same time. That included Yusuf, who, upon arriving in Malta, had had paparazzi on top of him, asking if he knew Nicolò was also in Malta and could Yusuf comment. No, Yusuf hadn’t known, but he did then. But the paparazzi didn’t need to know that. Yusuf had smiled his famous “secret smile” and waved at the paparazzi as he got into his car.

Nicolò had told Yusuf of a hotel an old family friend owned on the outskirts of Buġibba, and that they were guaranteed _some_ privacy. “She said no paparazzi, so that is good.” Yusuf had asked why didn’t they meet somewhere more private, like in a hotel room, and too late he’d realized that sounded like _flirting_ , but he wasn’t going to take it back. Yusuf could hear Nicolò swallow over the phone and he honestly didn’t know what that meant, so he had waited with bated breath for Nicolò’s response. “We should be seen together, yes? We are engaged. It is expected. As long as there is no paparazzi.” They had agreed on a day and time and Nicolò had promptly ended the call, surprising Yusuf at the abruptness and lack of farewell. Was that a Genovese thing? Yusuf had shrugged and told himself not to take it personally.

Just as Yusuf took a deep breath in preparation to start walking towards Nicolò, Nicolò turned his head and they locked eyes. Yusuf felt his breath rattle in his chest. Nicolò’s eyes were what poets would call “soulful”. One look from Nicolò and Yusuf felt as if he was flayed open. It was a terrifying and exhilarating experience. His knees abruptly felt weak and wobbly and _wow_ , Yusuf was pathetic. He was a grown man; what was _wrong_ with him.

Nicolò gave him a small smile and then raised his eyebrows when Yusuf didn’t move. Yusuf took that as his cue to _move, dammit_. But his legs refused to move, so Yusuf decided to smirk at Nicolò in return, raising one hand in greeting. Yusuf was thankful he was already leaning against the wall, otherwise he would have made a fool of himself. In truth, he was already making a fool of himself by not moving and leaning against the wall as if his life depended on it. His position wouldn’t hold out for long, he knew. He could feel Booker’s eyes on him, asking him what he was doing, but Booker should mind his own business, thank you very much. But Nicolò was also looking at him with a question in his eyes, so it was time to move, no matter the consequences.

Nicolò was raising his hand in return greeting and standing up when Yusuf started moving towards him, his legs thankfully gaining traction and losing their shakiness. Yusuf didn’t know what possessed him, although later he would tell Booker he lost his balance, even though both of them knew that was a lie, as he grabbed Nicolò by the shoulders and hugged him. Nicolò grunted as he fell into Yusuf, and even though he was tense as a bowstring, he raised his arms and wrapped them around Yusuf, hugging him back. Yusuf couldn’t help but smell Nicolò’s cologne on his neck, a crisp and clean scent with a mixture of sea salt and lemongrass. It was the same cologne he was wearing when they first met. It was mixed with Nicolò’s own masculine scent, which drove Yusuf wild. Yusuf felt a shiver run down his back as warm lips fell on his cheek, soft and feather-light. Right. A kiss on the cheek. The Genovese greeting. Yusuf should return the favor with one of the Marrakeshian greetings. He knew without a doubt which one he should use. He pulled back and looked into Nicolò’s face, which was slightly flushed. Nicolò continued looking at him in question and confusion. Yusuf gave him a wide smile and grabbed his face with both hands. Nicolò’s eyes widened as Yusuf leaned forward to kiss him. On his forehead. He heard and felt Nicolò’s soft relieved laugh against his throat. That was the first time Yusuf heard Nicolò laugh and he pulled back to capture it with his eyes, but Nicolò was looking at him with mirth in his eyes and a smile on his lips. He would make sure to make him laugh again. He _needed_ to see it.

  
_by karanoidandroid_

“I think we’ve been caught,” Yusuf whispered, glancing at the family by the car who were now openly staring at both of them. The teen daughter was very obviously recording them, even though she tried to mask it, trying and failing to make it look as if she was watching a video on her phone.

Nicolò sighed in what Yusuf guessed was resignation. He pulled his hands back from around Yusuf’s back, and Yusuf grabbed one of his hands steadfastly, bringing it up to his lips and kissing the top of it, feather light as Nicolò’s kiss. That was decidedly not a Marrakeshian greeting, but Yusuf appreciated the European chivalrous gesture of it. He grinned as Nicolò’s slightly flushed face became a full-blown blush. 

“ _Dio_ ,” Nicolò cursed under his breath, glaring at Yusuf. “You win,” he muttered, looking away. He didn’t pull his hand away though, instead tightening his fingers around Yusuf’s.

“I didn’t know this was a competition,” Yusuf said. “But I agree. I win.”

Nicolo glared at him again, this time from beneath his eyelashes. Yusuf smirked at him, then glanced at the teen girl, who was positively _vibrating_ with excitement at what she was capturing.

“She’s definitely going to post us on TikTok,” Yusuf said, laughing at Nicolò’s horrified face. Oh, they were definitely going on TikTok and probably Instagram to the tune of A Whole New World or some other Aladdin song, because for some reason a certain segment of the Western population liked the idea of him as Disney’s Aladdin, even though Yusuf was definitely Jafar, _come on_.

“Ha ha,” Nicolò deadpanned. He looked at the teenage girl from the corner of his eye. To Yusuf’s surprise, Nicolò entwined his fingers with Yusuf’s and pulled him to the set of glass doors Yusuf walked through. Booker was already opening the doors for them, stepping forward to give the lobby a sweep and stepping to the side to let them pass.

“Where are you taking me?” Yusuf said bemusedly.

“Away from there,” Nicolò muttered. He walked faster the deeper they got into the hotel lobby.

“I told you we should have met in a room. A restaurant would have worked too. I know a great place in Mellieħa,” Yusuf said. “Do you like squid?” Yusuf knew he was babbling, but he couldn’t stop. “I rarely eat it myself, but this restaurant has the best calamari stew I’ve ever tasted. Do you like stew?” Yusuf almost stumbled onto Nicolò’s back as Nicolò abruptly stopped walking and slowly turned his head to stare at him.

“I like stew,” Nicolò said, turning around and pulling on Yusuf’s hand again. Nicolò didn’t look it, but he was _strong_. Yusuf let himself be pulled to Nicolò’s heart’s content.

“But not squid?” Yusuf guessed, taking notice that he didn’t mention a like nor dislike for the seafood.

“No,” Nicolò said.

“Okay,” Yusuf replied. He waited a beat. “So what seafood do you like?”

“I do not,” Nicolò said. “Like seafood,” he added.

Yusuf abruptly stopped walking, the abrupt stopped momentum pulling Nicolò backwards. He almost stumbled into Yusuf’s chest. Yusuf stared at his profile in shock. Nicolò, Prince of Genova, _didn’t like seafood_?

“No, I do not like it,” Nicolò said.

“Did I say that out loud?” 

“That I do not like seafood? Yes,” Nicolò said.

They stared at each other. Wasn’t his country known for its seafood cuisines? Yusuf was sure he’d read that somewhere. He blinked several times, trying to make sense of it.

“I see I have surprised you,” Nicolò said with a small smile, starting to walk once more, this time at a more leisurely pace. He had released Yusuf’s hand when he had been pulled back. Yusuf wanted to reach out and hold Nicolò’s warm hand. He was practically _itching_ to do it. He glanced down at Nicolò’s hand in thought. No. No, he had already exhausted his forwardness for the day. He was already preparing himself to never hear the end of that forehead and hand kiss from his friends, his sister, even Booker. He wouldn’t put it past his mama to also make a mention of it during their, now weekly, family gathering.

“I have grown up eating seafood,” Nicolò suddenly said, breaking the silence. “My mother’s side of the family have seafood cuisine recipes dating back to the Crusades. When I was a teenager, I do not remember the age, I decided enough was enough and refused to eat it any longer.”

Yusuf looked at him in surprise. This was the most Nicolò had said about himself. Yusuf wanted to know more. So he asked for more. “How did your family react?”

Nicolò shrugged. “They gave me grief about it, but do you want to know a secret?” Nicolò whispered the question, leaning towards Yusuf. He couldn’t help taking a deep breath of Nicolò’s scent again. It really was a nice cologne. He should ask him for the name. “My father hates it as well, but he is a better man than I am, because I refuse to eat _merda_.”

Yusuf felt a loud laugh burst from somewhere deep inside his chest. It wasn’t even that funny, it wasn’t even a _joke_ , but Nicolò’s face combined with his tone combined with the profanity coming out of his mouth made Yusuf lose it.

“I am happy that I could be of service,” Nicolò deadpanned and Yusuf felt more uncontrollable laughter escape him. “Am I that funny?” Nicolò mused, smiling at him.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Yusuf gasped, putting a hand on his chest, willing the laughter to subside. Nicolò had a dry sense of humor, a wittiness that Yusuf found endearing but also hilarious. “Good to know you don’t like seafood. What food _do_ you like?” He needed to steer the conversation away from his embarrassing outburst.

“ _Pesto_ è meraviglioso. Have you tried it?”

Yusuf shook his head. “Can’t say that I have.”

Nicolò hummed and put his hands in his trousers pockets. “I will have to make some pesto for you then. When we are...married.”

Ah yes, the proverbial elephant in the room. Their engagement. Their subsequent marriage. Yusuf had been holding off bringing up the subject, partly due to wanting to avoid the whole awkward conversation they were sure to have, if their phone call a few days ago was any indication and partly because he was waiting for Nicolò to broach the subject first. Nicolò _had_ been the one to reach out to Yusuf so they could “discuss the events from the past month”, so it stood to reason he should bring it up first. Which he just had. And just as Yusuf thought, the awkwardness surrounding the subject of their engagement was a killjoy.

“Where are we going?” Yusuf asked, looking around them. They had walked deeper into the bowels of the hotel and the floor tiles had given way to red plush carpet.

Nicolò seemed to go along with Yusuf’s obvious change in subject. He looked around them, also taking notice of where they had ended up. They had walked into a large hallway, with several closed double doors on both sides.

“Oh,” Nicolò said, grimacing. “I’m sorry. I wanted to leave as fast as possible and was not thinking where we were going.” He glanced behind him, as if searching for someone. Yusuf followed his gaze to a petite woman with long black hair, who was leaning casually against a column, _filing her nails_. Right. If only Booker would file his nails; they were disgusting. Yusuf sent a glance Booker's way, who was standing a few feet behind and across the woman, trying to hide his big bulk behind another column. He was looking at the woman like a hawk, as if trying to read her mind or gauge what her next steps were going to be. He glanced at Yusuf and shrugged minutely at being caught.

Yusuf looked back to the woman, who was nodding at Nicolò. She turned around and started walking back towards where they had come from. Nicolò followed her and Yusuf followed suit. Booker stayed back, holding the rear. As Yusuf passed Booker, he raised his eyebrows at him in silent question, but Booker ignored him.

“So is she your shadow?” Yusuf asked Nicolò, nodding at the woman when Nicolò looked at him in confusion. “Your bodyguard,” he clarified.

Nicolò chuckled. “She is more like mist.”

“Mist and Shadow,” Yusuf said. “A good title for a YA novel.”

“YA?” Nicolò inquired.

“Young Adult books,” Yusuf replied.

“Oh.” Nicolò paused. “Is that what you read?”

Yusuf laughed. “No, no, but I have a younger sister who does.”

“I see. What books do you read? If I may ask?”

“Of course you may ask, Nicolò. You may ask anything you want of me.”

Nicolò looked away, scratching the back of his head. Shit. _Shit_. Had Yusuf’s flirting gone too far?

“Sorry,” Yusuf said quietly. Nicolò looked at him and waved his hand, as if waving the apology away. “I like science fiction and poetry,” Yusuf said, answering Nicolò’s question.

“Interesting combination of genres,” Nicolò remarked, smiling at him. It was Yusuf’s turn to scratch his head. He smiled sheepishly back at Nicolò.

“What books do you read?” Yusuf asked.

“You know those quirky books that you buy in tourist shops? The ones with phrases and anecdotes of the country or city you are in? I like those. I have quite a collection,” Nicolò said seriously, nodding to himself. “Do you know what some Mongolians say when you sneeze? ‘ _Burkhan orshoo butin chinee sakhal urga. God bless you and may your moustache grow like brushwood._ ’ Funny, no?”

Yusuf unconsciously touched his growing stubble, which he was letting grow into a full beard. “Thank you for the blessing. My facial hair needs it. Do you know how long it’s taking to grow it out?” They looked at each other, the air thick. Yusuf would later say it was Nicolò who broke first, but in that moment, all Yusuf could think of as they both lost themselves to the humor of the moment, was that he finally got to see Nicolò's beautiful laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Italian Translations:**
> 
> \- Dio: God  
> \- Merda: Shit  
> \- È meraviglioso: Is marvelous


End file.
